


Fragile

by Kettle_Fish



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers - MTMTE
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, No Beta, Talk about feelings, drift has issues ok?, honest to god i haven't read this in like a year i'm posting it blind, wacky science experiments gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26190250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kettle_Fish/pseuds/Kettle_Fish
Summary: Okay, so Drift should definitely have known better. But wasn't that true of all things? The benefit of hindsight and all that. So... You could say, technically, Drift wasn't to blame.aka: old writing I found on my computer and never had the courage to post. Here we go I guess :)
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	Fragile

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Wait!!  
> I wanna steal your attention for a moment - just to tell ya, I hope you have a really nice day :)

Okay, so Drift should definitely have known better. But wasn't that true of all things? The benefit of hindsight and all that. So... You could say, technically, Drift wasn't to blame.

Still, he probably shouldn't have been growing crystals in Brainstorm’s lab. Or tending to the crystals. Or being anywhere near said crystals while Brainstorm was in the vicinity.

Particularly not when the infamous scientist was experimenting.

Drift looked down at his hands and exvented softly. He absently ran a thumb over his knuckle joints, feeling the new edges of hard stone on his fingers. His internal HUD was pinging him incessantly with error reports. Screaming at him that something was wrong. Or at least very, very strange. This was a completely understandable reaction when one minute you’re polishing your crystal garden - and the next there’s been a big bang and you’ve been knocked unconscious. 

Oh, and you've woken up to find yourself entirely composed of crystal. 

Drift turned his helm again, watching how the light bounced over his faceplates in the reflection in the window next to him. He kicked his feet nervously against the workbench, a makeshift seat beneath him.  
He looked like a giant crystal sculpture, shimmery and fragile. And he hated it. Not only was it a bit too over the top, (His new plating put even the fanciest of polishes to shame), it was also deeply unsettling. He hated feeling so… breakable.  
His field hummed where it was pulled tight against his plating, barely restrained panic roiling through it. Drift scratched at his arm distractedly, forcing down another rising wave of panic, and listened to the small tinkling sound made as stone ran across stone.  
He frowned again and flashed his biolights, watching in the smooth glass of the window. The crystals reflected the colour throughout his entire frame, making him glow gently like a mech-sized lantern. Pretty. 

Drift sighed and shook his head, sending sparkles of reflected light dancing across the room. He took a shaky invent and forced an airy tone into his voice, “Any luck?”

Brainstorm dragged a hand down his face, blinking tired static from his optics as he surveyed the screen in front of him, “Why, yes.” 

“Really?!”

“No.”

Drift leveled a small, but not insignificant kick into the scientist’s hip plates. Brainstorm swore and batted the pede away, then refreshed the diagnostics on the screen yet again, vainly hoping to see any change. “I gotta be honest Drift, I have absolutely no idea what's happened to you.”

“I've turned into a rock!” Drift snapped. 

“Well, yes. There's that.” Brainstorm grabbed up a datapad on the bench next to him, running yet another scan over Drift’s frame as he spoke. “But as to how that occured… I'm not sure.”

“Your gun fraggin’ exploded! I’d say it was your experiment failure that might’ve caused the problem!”

Brainstorm whipped his helm up, yellow optics flashing with irritation, “OKAY, first? Not a failure. Any experiment you can learn something from is an indisputable success. For example, today I learned not to let aft-heads secretly grow gardens in my lab!” 

Drift glanced back at the other, fighting down a growl that was steadily rising in his throat. “Sure, whatever you say. What was your experiment supposed to do then?” 

“Oh!” Any sour mood vanished from the jet’s frame as he clapped his hands together excitedly. “Ok, so. It's a gun.” (He ignored Drift’s muttered “of course”) “And this gun, this incredible, amazing, awesome gun, when held, turns the bearer completely intangible!” 

Brainstorm whirled around to face the bench opposite Drift. A mangled lump of metal still smoking slightly from what might once have been a barrel.  
“Just think of the potential! With the ability to move through any and all materials Spec Ops will be reborn! Agents can get anywhere, anytime, through anything!” He sighed dreamily. 

Drift was still for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “...What would stop people from going through the floor?”

“Technicalities." Brainstorm cleared his vocalizer with a cough, then waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway, my best guess would be that when the blast hit you, your atoms kinda… smushed together with the crystal’s.”

The scientist turned to look back at Drift with a shrug, “I’m sorry but you’ll have to stay crystallized a bit longer ‘till I can run some more in-depth calculations.”

Drift felt his claws dig painfully into the metal of the berth, hard enough to dent. That was fine. Absolutely peachy. Drift didn’t need to worry about a little thing like his whole body practically being made of glass.  
It was sort of funny, he thought, in a sick kind of way. He had survived countless dangers before, but one little lab accident was enough to make him lose his shit. 

He ground his denta together hard, making Brainstorm flinch. 

“Annnnnnnnd I'm gonna have to report this to the Medibay ‘cos this could have all kinds of side effects.”

Drift threw his hands in the air, ignoring the weird slide his now incredibly smooth plating made over itself. “Great! Just what I need.” Drift groaned inwardly, more poking and prodding.

Still, if he could keep it together for another joor, he could hide away for the rest of the week without too much suspicion. 

\---

About five minutes after Brainstorm sent the medibay an emergency ping (although really, wasn't that the lost light’s usual kind of ping?) Ratchet stormed through the laboratory doors.  
Hurriedly, Brainstorm shoved Drift over the table with a yelp, forcing the swordsmech’s helm down behind the bench as he hissed, “Hide! Let me do the talking!” Drift nodded mutely from underneath the scientist’s fingers, his crystalline optics shimmering with sympathy. 

With that Brainstorm twirled on his heel, arms wide and palms up in a placating gesture, an easy smile forced onto his face, “Ratchet! So nice to see you! Now if -”

"I'm sure." The red and white medic sneered, cocking his hip and rolling his optics dramatically, “Now hurry up and tell me who fragged up this time.”

Brainstorm deflated. "Ah, well, that would be me… But it's also Drift's fault too!"

“Mech!” Squeaked a muffled voice from behind the table "Why you gotta throw me under the bus?" 

Ratchet stepped forward, worry suffusing his field. "Drift?" The medic's face was schooled into a professional grump, but the slight waver in his voice betrayed him. "What's wrong?" 

Drift took a deep invent. Today just kept getting better and better. He stood up slowly from behind his table and raised his helm to face the doctor. The fluorescent lights overhead glinted off of his plating, his own biolights suffusing his frame with a soft red glow. He scanned Ratchet’s shocked face, biting his lip slightly as he waited for the medic’s reaction. 

Brainstorm stammered and tried to move in between the two mechs, “Now, Doctor, I assure you there’s a perfectly good-”

“What...” Ratchet reached out a firm hand and pushed Brainstorm away, his brow creased with worry.  
He faltered and stopped just before the workbench, then crossed his arms grumpily across his chest. "Well, this is a new one." 

Drift smiled with strained enthusiasm, his tanks churning with embarrassment.  
“Yeah, Ratch. I'm a little sparklier than normal maybe but I honestly don’t think it's such a big deal! I’m fine, it’s fine.” 

His optic’s slipped down to the floor, away from the medic's piercing gaze. “Can I go now?”

“Absolutely not!” Ratchet reached over the table top and grabbed Drift by the collar, swiftly pulling him up and over the workbench with practiced ease. "You're going to the medibay!" 

“-and you!” Ratchet’s focus snapped back to Brainstorm with deadly intensity, “What were you thinking!? You should have called me immediately!” 

The doctor leaned in to Brainstorm’s face, his hand clenching heavily on the scientist’s shoulder pauldron. The metal creaked ominously underneath his fingertips. If Ratchet had filed denta he would have snarled. “Now. Fix. This.”

With that the medic was gone, dragging a shimmering swordsmech to the medibay. 

Leaving Brainstorm alone to slump against the table with a heavy exvent and to start counting his lucky stars.

\---

Drift squirmed underneath the bright light shining into his optics, flinching away from Ratchet as much as he could on the narrow medical berth. “Really, Ratch - I’m fine! You can let me go.”

Ratchet swatted at the arm closest to him, before rummaging in a nearby draw for yet another doodad, “Don’t be stupid kid. If I didn't know any better I'd say you didn’t want any help.”

Drift pouted. “Well… maybe I like being a crystal?” It was a weak lie and he knew it. Primus, why’d he ever have to open his stupid mouth at all. He’d be better off just jumping into space and getting this all over wi-

Ratchet leaned in closer, abruptly halting Drifts train of thought. He inspected Drift’s glittery frame with a shrewd gaze. Then he scowled down at Drift's face which was close, so close. “Uh huh, sure. Maybe now you’ll be more intune with the Energies of the Universe~”

A tingle of some unidentifiable emotion ran through Drift’s chest. He turned his head away, staring out at the empty medibay beside him. “Yeah, well," he shrugged, "I’m strong enough to withstand a little bit of stone.” He had to be. He had to be stronger. 

Ratchet moved away, putting a little more space between the two of them. Drift’s plating tinkled slightly as he shivered, a wave of concern washed over him from Ratchet’s EM field, “Drift..”

“No, it’s fine.” The swordsmech sat up, embarrassment and anxiety flooding through his systems. He yanked out the I.V. lines from his arm and turned to dismount the berth. “I’m sorry I said anything. Please just.. have a nice day."

Drift dropped his crystalline pedes to the floor, fragile, oh so fragile, and hoped desperately they wouldn’t break beneath him. It’s okay. I’m okay. He felt his vents start to speed up, desperately cycling air in and out to cools his overheating systems.  
“I-I’m gonna go on shift now, they need me… they need me on the bridge.” 

He took a few stumbling steps forward, inwardly cursing his own stupidity. He couldn’t even get his own fraggin’ frame to work right. The one thing he had left and it was failing on him. Four million years of war and this was what pushes him over the edge? Pathetic. He was so patheti-

The toe of his left pede caught on the ankle of his right and with a startled yelp he went straight to the floor. Pain seared through his frame, along with yet more error reports on his HUD. The flashing notifications overwhelmed him and Drift felt his consciousness fade  
Around him Drift faintly registered the scattering of a hundred tiny shards of crystals on the floor, winking back at him like stars in the night sky against the dark burnished metal of the medibay floor. 

His optics flickered back on (when had he offlined them?) as he felt himself being lifted into a sitting position and pulled gently against someone’s side. Drift’s limp frame slipped down into the mech’s lap as sobs rocked his shoulders. He protested weakly, words slurring as his cheek pushed into someone’s red thigh plating, “Nngh. I’m fine, leav’ me ‘lone.” 

A rough but warm hand stroked over Drift’s helm. Ratchet’s low voice rumbled just above him, “No, you’re not. And that’s okay.”

Drift shifted slightly, shooting a threatening glare up at Ratchet. Which was rather undermined by the fact that he was currently curled up in said doctor’s lap. 

“You’re not fine, Drift. Your whole body has been turned into a giant walking death trap, however pretty it may be, and you’ve had one hell of a day because of it.” 

“Nngh” Drift burrowed his head deeper into Ratchet’s thigh.

“Primus Drift! We’ve been at war for almost all of recorded history! Nobody’s fine!” The petting of his helm stopped. A low rumble started in Ratchet’s chest and echoed through Drift’s shoulders. “I don’t care what misguided denial complex you’ve got but you have to let people help you when you need it!” 

Drift picked his helm up sullenly, “Y-you don’t understand, I can’t show that I’m…”

“What? Weak? Pssh. We’re all weak. It’s a key feature of being a person! No one is invincible, Drift.”

Ratchet sighed softly, and let his calming field wash over Drift’s own. Comfort, companionship, empathy. “You aren’t there anymore Drift. You aren’t with the Decepticons or in the Dead End. You’re here, with me, and you’re safe.” Until the next disaster of course, but Ratchet let that go unsaid. “You don’t need to pretend anymore.”

Drift sniffled, weakling rubbing his optics with a hand to wipe away the coolant pooling there. “T-thanks Ratch.”

Ratchet smiled unseen behind Drift’s helm. A small, warm smile that Ratchet didn’t wear nearly enough. Saved only for a few mechs in his lifetime. “Sure, kid.”

They stayed like that, a fragile, broken mech curled up in the arms of another, just as fragile and breakable. Light from a nearby star spilt in through the medibay windows as the Lost Light banked on its course, bathing them both in silver and blue.

Drift and surveyed his sparkling pedes, before something twigged in his mind. HIs processor, slow to catch up with all that had just happened, finally presenting him with a highly urgent ping.  
The swordsmech shifted to sit up abruptly, turning to face Ratchet, “Wait.” Drift leaned in closer, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Did you say I was pretty?”

Ratchet spluttered, "Now hang on-"

\---

A few orns later, after all the trouble was dealt with and the Lost Light returned to a slightly lesser state of chaos, a small crystal garden moved into an unused corner of the medical bay. Next to the window, where it could get plenty of starlight.


End file.
